Worth Fighting For
by crivain sans nom
Summary: How do you know if something's worth fighting for if it's not worth dying for? Homura enters yet another timeline, and knocks yet another cosmic domino down, leading to another anomalous timeline. Can she save Madoka this time? Rated for violence and a little language.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Okay, I love Puella Magi Madoka Magica, but it's not mine, so please do not sue me. :D Also, this is more of an exploration-of-the-world work than a FANFICOMGYAY work, but you never know :) anyway, constructive crit please? Love? A Homura-Chan? :3

**-WFF-**

Bright pink eyes, a flash of two adorable pigtails… the world's _cutest laugh_. A soft, squishy and gentle face, a tiny button nose, a cutely plump body…

With a gasp, Akemi Homura awakes, shivering in the cold of the hospital room. For some reason, the memories of the end of the last timeline (her own screams, the stink of blood and sweat and the explosion, fire and cuts, burning and Madoka's screams—Madoka's broken, tearful _screams_…) aren't as clear as all the others, this time, and instead, simply the gentle, calming image of Madoka comes fully-formed in her mind.

"Madoka…" the dark-haired girl mouths, indigo eyes sparkling with tears—tears that she hasn't cried in what feels like years—that she quickly blinks away. Sadness morphs into determination as the veteran magical girl springs from her hospital bed, clutching her soul gem as tightly as she can without giving into unforgivable, terrible pain.

Healing her eyes, the dark-haired girl considers, now seeing clearly the broken girl staring at her in the mirror. She'd fixed her heart, she'd fixed her eyes, but she couldn't fix herself. It was something that often attacked her on the quiet nights lying in the dark, unable to sleep, unable to move. What would she be when it was all over? Madoka could make her melt, but not even someone as truly amazing as Madoka could fix someone as broken as her… but that was okay. As long as Madoka was okay… it would be fine. _It would be._

* * *

Homura is not one to mix things up—she has a linear. Well, she used to. It's still the way she is, deep down in the twisted ironworks of her mind. Now she changes subtle things each time—like when she gets the weapons. Now, this timeline, she's stealing guns first, instead of setting up her camp.

"Hey!" Time starts a fraction earlier than she imagined. This makes a world of difference. For Homura, one of synchronism and rhythm, this sudden change of tempo throws her surprisingly off. Some mobster twists her arm, and before she can fight back, her shield's rolling away.

"_Shit!_" She lets slip; sudden desperate fear spreading through her, and her instincts kick in. She leaps into a graceful somersault, one of her fists landing in the restraining mobster's face. His grip slackens in surprise, and though it's still tight, the loosening is enough for Homura to pull free. Then she's like a monster, tearing through the place. She grabs a gun from a confused man's hands, and empties it into three of her attackers. She then runs for her shield, she stops time and shoots the other four for good measure, though she doesn't really _believe _that anyone would believe 'the little girl with long black hair killed them'.

Maybe she's just sadistic.

* * *

_Hello_. This meeting is always the same, though the circumstances always differ.

"Hello, Incubator," Homura is always curt but polite, and the creature always nods in a kind of understanding; to her, he's not 'Kyubey' but 'Incubator'—she's some sort of threat, but it doesn't go on the defensive.

_I don't remember contracting you. You're an anomaly._ The creature's red eyes are lifeless, that little mouth unmoving. Why have a face if the expression doesn't change? The girl ponders this as she leans back into her uncomfortable brown shoes, her own expression as stone as her adversary's.

"Am I supposed to understand that?" Homura asks, playing a little on the ignorance card, and mentally noting that she shouldn't do it that much.

_Hm… I see. Well, I'll be watching. What's your name?_ That damn face still doesn't change.

"Akemi Homura." She answers on instinct, though she's sure it doesn't mean a thing to it.

_Oh. Okay, thanks, Akemi Homura. I'll see you!_ It takes a leap through the jagged fences, paws skittering on the concrete, and Homura rests against the brick-wall in the alleyway, up to her ankles in trash. A smile finds its way onto the pale face, at the possibility of a success.

"Madoka…"


	2. Chapter 1

**WFF 1**

Homura isn't stalking, and if she is, she's doing it for Madoka's sake, not her own. She leans wordlessly against the wall, feeling strange and uncomfortable in the school uniform that is her entire wardrobe. She'd once had jeans and dinky purple dresses and stacks of cute winter boots and bright summer sandals, but the heart condition stopped Homura in her tracks, forced her stop being _her_, and then all of this happened.

She is still thankful for her life, though; so many things could have gone wrong with her operation that… luckily didn't. Meeting Madoka is the most wonderful thing that has _ever_ happened to her; she's always been worth all of this.

"Sayaka-Chan!" the beautiful girl runs into sight right on cue, running away from a slightly taller blue haired girl. Her high-pitched, shriek-like laughter still sends shivers down Homura's spine, and she feels herself smiling despite everything. "Sayaka-Chan… Sayaka-Chan!" the girl wails as she's caught up to. Madoka screams, wiggling in the blue-haired girl's grasp as she closes in, a devilish grin on her face. "Stop! S-Sayaka-Chan!"

"Ha-ha! I have you now, Madoka!" Sayaka cries, mercilessly tickling her beloved pink-haired friend. A third girl strolls casually into view, brushing away her beautiful green girls elegantly. She gives an overdramatic sigh as she catches sight of the scene.

"Oh Sayaka-San," she chuckles, pressing a perfectly maintained hand to her mouth. "Let Madoka-San go and let's all go and eat."

"You sure?" Sayaka asks, standing up straighter and giving the third girl a serious, solemn look. "I mean, I know you got your revision or whatever later,"

"Actually, it's tea ceremony," Hitomi corrects, blushing slightly. "But it's okay, I can have a bite to eat before heading off… I know you wanted to talk about the transfer student, Akemi-San, and I don't want to be impolite." Homura watches with slight annoyance; she doesn't really want to hear their incessant babbling—about her, no less—but she does want to stay near Madoka, so she follows the three of them closely, though far enough to hide effectively if noticed.

* * *

"She's pretty," Madoka thinks aloud as she collapses into the café beside Sayaka. "She's very quiet, too though… and good at sport. You wouldn't expect that from a girl with a heart problem,"

"Yeah, I thought that was weird," adds Sayaka, frowning. Behind them, Homura is sitting with a coffee, playing disinterestedly with the spoon sitting in her mug. "If she's sick enough to miss so long from school, how come she can run up and down the track like that?"

"Well, we don't know that for sure. I mean, we don't know what Akemi-San has, it's possible whatever problem she had would have been fixed with an operation." Hitomi suggests in a gentle, tactful manner.

"Well, I guess," Sayaka shrugs at her friend, taking a long slurp of her drink. It makes a disgusting noise and Homura cringes, still playing with the spoon in her coffee.

"Hitomi-Chan is right," Madoka gives a stunning smile that Homura can't see, but from her position on her lonesome right behind the pigtailed girl, she can almost _feel_ it; it feels like hot water bottles and wood-burning fires, and the glorious feeling sitting beneath the sun… "I'm sure Homura-Chan is lovely! We just haven't gotten to know her yet."

"Make that your goal, Madoka," suggests Hitomi as she excuses herself from the table. "I'll see you both tomorrow at school," She gives both girls a warm parting smile and heads off, mint-coloured eyes falling upon Homura as she leaves. She gives a slight, knowing smile despite Homura's hateful glares.

"We should go to the music store! I want to buy—I want to buy something," Sayaka babbles suddenly, and without another word, Sayaka dashes off, leaving Madoka trailing clumsily. Homura watches, and silently entrusts Madoka to the blue-haired girl, because time, however bountiful, is _always _precious, and she has important things to do with her time.

* * *

Kyubey runs from Homura, still smiling in that incredibly irritating manner, and Homura gives a gentle, angry growl as her shots miss the snowy white creature. The dark, disused building cloaks the chase well, though Homura fears the consequences of the Incubator calling Madoka or Sayaka.

_Why are you doing this, Akemi Homura? _The incubator asks, not seeming particularly stressed. Though she knows why it's so calm, anger still boils in the purple Puella Magi's blood when she thinks that she isn't a threat to it.

"You want to contract someone dear to me," Homura growls, crashing through some insecure flooring. She lands crouching, eyes searching for Kyubey, but instead they fall upon a girl all over in midnight blue with longish hair and a slightly bulky costume. A Puella Magi.

"What're you doing to Kyubey?" She asks, voice oozing with arrogance. The incubator is cowering behind the slender girl, and Homura sighs, standing up.

"Move," is her only word to the Puella Magi, seeing as she really doesn't care about this girl and her ignorance as to the Incubator's true nature.

"I asked you a question," the midnight blue girl sneers, taking a step towards Homura. She's not phased in the slightest.

"Move."

"Hey, you—"

"_Get out of the way._" Homura growls, panic about Kyubey discovering Madoka's "potential" getting the better of her. She reaches into the depths of her shield and tugs out a small handgun that she acquired from the mobsters. Training it on the still-fuming girl, she gives a very small smile… and pulls the trigger on the oblivious target.

**A/N: **Surprise! Bottom author's note! C: Okay, don't kill me for the OC, all will be explained in time. This isn't about OCs, shipping or most characters! This is mostly Homu-Centric.  
Thanks, also, too my reviewers ;u; I was like 'yaayyy' and I didn't give up this story like I _desperately wanted to_. Please continue to review otherwise I really will o_o unless you hate me, then don't review! I like making people happ~y! ;)  
Stick with me! Much like, écrivain sans nom (or crivain sans nom. Damned fanfiction!)

...P.S., I hope these'll get longer, they're so short at the moment! D:


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